


Absence

by Teland



Category: due South
Genre: Anger, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-11-07
Updated: 1999-11-07
Packaged: 2020-12-29 15:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21143537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teland/pseuds/Teland
Summary: Open letter to Benny.





	Absence

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Viridian, for sending me the inspirational poem, and to Dawn Sharon for fine audiencing and encouragement. 
> 
> Your absence has gone through me  
Like thread through a needle.  
Everything I do is stitched with its color.  
\- "Separation" by W.S. Merwin

It wasn't supposed to be like this, Benny. 

You weren't supposed to exist in my life in   
the first place, of course, but even after you   
showed up... It was going to be a one-time   
thing, you know? My chance to be a boy scout,   
without the prissy little shorts. 

You show up, I help you out, you get the hell   
back to Canada with a few nice words to your   
superior about that Vecchio guy, which in turn  
get back to my superior, and maybe get me a   
few minutes of peace and quiet about the six   
hundred open cases in my lap. 

International favor and all that.

Instead, you stayed here. You stayed and I got   
stupid all over the place. Lost everything   
resembling an edge, had my cover blown   
everywhere it counted, lost thousands of dollars   
and more than a few good dates. For you.

And I just kept doing it, like the fucking chump   
my Dad always said I was and you kept   
accepting it. I think that's the worst part, and I   
honestly don't give one about what that makes   
me sound like. 

I *hate* the fact that you never once stopped   
coming around for help, Benny. I gave and I gave   
and I gave and you never *once* gave even lip   
service to the idea that I might say no.

You kept coming back like it was my fucking   
*duty* to say yes and I kept doing that duty. Who   
the hell do you think you are, anyway?

And Benny, I swear to Christ I can hear your voice  
in my head. "Your friend, Ray."

My friend. That's... that's rich, you know it? I   
never once doubted that friends bend over   
backwards for each other, and it's not that I'm   
ungrateful for everything you've done for me,   
but... all the time?

Didn't you ever get tired? Do you think I'm weak  
for being tired?

I know you do. You'd never say it out loud, but   
you know as well as I do that you never had to   
say *anything* out loud to me. Well, here's a   
newsflash for you, Benny: I ran.

When the feds showed up with a picture of   
Langoustini and a thinly-veiled order I fucking   
jumped at the chance. Jumped so fast Welsh   
looked at me funny and kept looking at me funny  
until I finally got the hell out of the precinct.   
Guess I didn't bitch enough.

If you'd been here, you would've known. And you  
would've found a way to talk me out of it. You   
would've found a way to make it sound like I   
was tarnishing the badge by accepting the   
position for all the wrong reasons. Made me   
doubt myself, my ability to go undercover -- just   
by being the Big Red Block of Morality I couldn't   
detach myself from with lube and a crowbar. 

But you were gone, and I yessired my way out   
to Vegas. 

I was hoping you'd hear something in my voice   
when I called you, can you believe it? Your friend.   
Always your friend. 

I'm killing this assignment, Benny. As far as   
these goons are concerned I'm Armando   
Langoustini to a 't'. They may even let me shave  
this dumbass Hitler mustache without a   
comment because hey, Armando does what   
Armando wants when Armando wants it.

Cakewalk, Benny, and I sleep good at night, too.   
So there's no doubt in my mind that one day   
I'm going to walk back into the 2-7 with a   
commendation or three, and you're going to be   
there at my welcome back party, and you're   
going to give me a big, stiff hug and... and   
congratulate me on a job well done.

And that will be that. 

Oh, you'll be there if I need a shoulder, if it all   
gets too overwhelming going from one life to   
another and then back again. You'll say something   
wise and pretty, we'll solve another case, and   
you'll give me a meaningful look and a pat on   
the shoulder and then... there'll be a gunshot, or   
a scream, or some kid with big eyes and a chip on   
his shoulder and saints fucking preserve us if   
comforting me takes you away from your duty.

You'd let it, too. If I asked.

And I'd see it in your eyes. 

If I stole millions of dollars and killed some freak  
would it work? If I broke your heart? 

Could I break your heart?

Ah, Benny, it scares me how little guilt I really   
feel over shooting you. I didn't kill you, or maim   
you, or even knock you out of commission for   
very long. The diamonds aren't with your   
bitchwhore, my debts are paid, and you're even  
doing your duty again. And all that's just   
rationalization. 

In the end, you have a scar with my name on it. 

You're never going to be able to wipe me away,   
Benny, and that's all the payment I'm ever going   
to get for loving you.

End.


End file.
